Give Me Back My Mother

Mother, the ribbons of your love are woven around my heart.

~Author Unknown

My mother pointed a shaky finger my way. “Get out of my room now!”

“You don’t mean that, Mom,” I said. “You’re upset, that’s all.”

“I do mean it. Now, go… Don’t come back, and shut the door on your way out!”

In my entire life, my mother had never looked at me with such hatred on her face or kicked me out of her room. Before I closed her door, I took one last look at her and felt like screaming, “Give me back my mother!”

Dementia is no stranger to me. Over the years, our family has watched many of our loved ones suffer this fate. I had read loads on the subject and done tons of research. I knew what I should and shouldn’t do. So far, with each loving person we’d lost, I’d handled it well — until dementia took away my mother.

While I felt grateful Mom could act civil to friends and acquaintances, she bashed my sweet sister (Mom’s amazing caretaker) and me while our brother — the eternal golden boy — could do no wrong. And since my children and husband are mine, she punished them, too.

The change in Mom astounded us. The sweetest woman our family had ever known had become a cruel monster.

I found it extra-tough each time Mom attacked my sister — day and night. Of course, I knew Mom couldn’t help herself, but her behavior still horrified me. It also made me feel ashamed and guilt-ridden for not accepting what had happened to Mom with grace and understanding.

While we hadn’t always agreed on everything, Mom and I had always shared a close, loving relationship. Now she made it clear those days had ended, and I missed her.

One night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I could see the rosy hue coming from the window shades and figured I might as well get up and get my morning going. I closed my eyes for a minute to meditate on the day ahead, but I fell asleep and had a vivid dream.

I stood before an old-fashioned television set. On the screen, I saw my mother. I couldn’t believe how great it felt to see her again. Mom was wearing a colorful print blouse she had sewn, one of my favorites, along with her dangling yellow earrings. She looked much younger and wore her hair longer and softer than usual, the way I’d always loved it.

My sister and I stood behind Mom with tears coursing down our cheeks. We looked younger, too.

My mother looked out at me, stared deep into my eyes, and said, “If you are seeing this now, then it means something has happened to me. I’m not here anymore.”

Her words shattered the darkness that had weighed me down, leaving my heart and soul so light and free. I felt as if I might float away. A feeling of peace enveloped me, and I knew whatever happened in the future, I’d be okay.

In a flash, memories of the three of us together faded in and out on the TV screen. They were wonderful moments, happier times with Mom and my sister. I wanted to keep watching, but the alarm sounded, and I woke up.

According to the clock, I had only slept minutes. Dream or reality, I could still feel Mom’s presence as I wiped the tears from my eyes and told my husband what had happened. Loved ones have often come to me in my dreams. And I knew wherever the mother I knew had gone, she’d found a way to visit and send her much-needed message.

My mother continues to make it clear that I no longer fit into her life. I miss our numerous phone calls. I miss talking to her on our visits and the closeness we once shared. Perhaps that will change, but maybe not.

The loving mother in my dream made it clear that even though she’s not here anymore, she will always live in my heart and memories. No one, including Mom’s new reality, can take those away. And if I’m lucky, my loving mom, wherever she is, will continue to visit me in my dreams.

— Vera Frances —